Page 128 of Trapped By the Maharaja

She bolted up from Ram’s chest.

“What is it?” Ram asked.

Sanjana didn’t reply. She hurriedly got out of bed and crossed the suite. She went into the walk-in closet, opened a wardrobe, and pulled down a small wooden box from the highest shelf. Inside, neatly pressed and wrapped in faded paper, was the single treasure she had never parted with.

The letter from her benefactor. The person who had funded her education, who had quietly made her dream of becoming a doctor possible.

Sanjana carried the letter to the gift box received from the Rewa Palace.

Sanjana’s hands shook as she placed the two letters side by side. Her heart raced.

The same sweeping handwriting. The same unique seal pressed in wax—a tiny crest she had once believed to be a mere decorative flourish.

Her breath caught.

It was Suchitra Devi. The benefactor who had helped her dream and passion.

Shock ripped through her.

“What’s wrong, Sanjana?” Ram asked, coming to her immediately and looking at her with an alert expression.

“It was Suchitra Devi,” Sanjana whispered. “You mother was the one who paid for my schooling, for medical college. She made me who I am.”

She showed him the letters, the matching seal, the identical strokes of ink. Her chest ached as the truth unfolded in her mind. “A woman who could do this… who could change the course of my life out of kindness… I don’t think she could have been the one to conspire against us. Not in college. Not recently either. I refuse to believe it.”

Ram scanned the pages with the same sharp focus he used in boardrooms, then slowly the rigidity in his hard jaw eased and his eyes softened. “My mother is capable of being ruthless. But she is also capable of being kind and generous. Both things can be true.”

Ram was right. A person was capable of having shades of both ruthlessness and generosity. But Sanjana’s heart refused to believe her kind-hearted benefactor would put her in harm's way.

Sanjana’s logical mind reminded her that Keya said an older woman had ordered her to drug Ram at university. Rishan so confidently declared that Her Highness wanted Sanjana gone. And yet, Sanjana’s heart refused to believe it.

Before she could think further, her world tilted as she was swept up in strong arms.

“Ram!” she gasped, laughing.

He put her on bed and covered her body with his.

His lips brushed her ear, his voice low and rough. “No matter what truths we uncover, one thing will never change. You have always been mine and I love you, my maharani.”

Her breath caught, her heart tumbling. “And I love you, Ram Devara. I always have. Even when I tried to hate you… I was already yours.”

His mouth claimed hers fiercely until she was pressed back against the pillows, his weight covering her. Her hands clutched at him, surrendering to the fire and tenderness that only he could stir.

She clung to him, knowing there was nowhere else she wanted to be with her body, heart and soul trapped by the maharaja.

???

Rewa Palace

The palace was quiet in the late evening, its gardens still under the glow of lamps. Inside her private chambers, Suchitra Devi sat at her desk, signing letters with calm focus.

Her longtime assistant, Mira, placed a neat stack of sealed envelopes beside her and smiled. “Your plan has worked perfectly, Your Highness. The Devara palace is full of joy, watching their maharaja and maharani so in love.”

Suchitra Devi set her pen down and allowed herself a faint smile. “I knew it would. My stubborn son just needed a push. Eight years of brooding was long enough.”

Her eyes softened as she thought of Ram. He had carried anger and betrayal for too long, hiding behind his duties and a wall of pride. Bringing Sanjana back had broken through that wall, forcing him to live again.

Not that Ram wouldn’t have found Sanjana on his own eventually. He would have searched the world for her if he had to. But Devi had made it easier, pushing the royal trust board to change the rules of succession.